Santa Maybe (The Duchess Hotel #1)

Chapter 22

Twenty-Two

When Rosie had agreed to accompany Drew to Evelyn’s wedding, she’d thought his primary goal was to show his coworkers that he was thriving without his ex. To prove to all of them that he’d moved on and was now involved with someone else. But as the evening went on, Rosie realized he no longer cared what anyone thought of him. He was happy exactly as he was.

Around his fellow trainers, he was in high spirits, joking and sharing drinks with them. When Evelyn passed by their table, he greeted her pleasantly. At that moment, Rosie no longer felt like he was using her to make his ex jealous. She felt like his girlfriend . Like this was a real relationship.

And she liked it. A lot.

Even if her work life was busier than ever, being around Drew didn’t add to her stress. Unlike her ex, he helped her get through it. When she needed to vent about her boss or the demanding guests from the Duke, he listened to her. When she was tense, he gave her deep, soothing massages that relaxed her muscles. In bed, he was a generous and thoughtful lover.

In just about every way, he was behaving as a real boyfriend should. But back when he’d cooked up this scheme, that wasn’t what he’d intended.

So what did this mean for them?

For now, it was best not to think about it. Instead, Rosie planned to enjoy her night at the Grand Duke. She had to give the hotel credit—both the appetizers and the plated dinner had been delicious. And the open bar was a delight. By now, she was slightly light-headed from the three cocktails she’d imbibed, but she wasn’t ready to switch to water. As she went over to the bar to order another Moscow Mule, she ran into Bones, the manager of Northlife. He towered over her, bald and muscular, like a Canadian version of the Rock.

“Hey, Rosie,” he said. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am. Even if I’m betraying the Duchess by spending the evening here, I’m having a marvelous time.”

He laughed. “I didn’t think of that. Personally, I’m Team Duchess. It’s been great working with your hotel.”

“Thanks. The guests really appreciate getting to use your gym. Instead of crowding into a tiny, on-site workout room with a few treadmills, they get the run of your entire facility.”

“It’s been beneficial on our end, too. I also have to thank you for encouraging Drew to step up into management.” Bones glanced over at Rosie’s table, where Drew was chatting with two other trainers. “It’s the right move for him.”

Rosie basked in the older man’s praise. “I didn’t do that much—just listened and tried to support him. But I think he’ll enjoy playing a bigger role in the gym’s personal training program.”

“I agree. He’s so much happier now. Not to disparage Evelyn, but she wasn’t a good match for him. With you, he’s in a better place than he’s been in months.”

“Um…thanks.” She felt awkward, knowing she was selling a lie. What would Bones think when she and Drew “broke up” in January? What excuse would Drew give? Would he blame her? Or would he just tell everyone they weren’t compatible?

All of a sudden, the idea of creating a breakup story filled her with dread. She didn’t want to make up some bullshit where she blamed herself or Drew.

Bones put his hand on her arm. “Everything all right? You look a little uncomfortable.”

She forced a laugh. “I’m okay. I think I had too much to eat at dinner.”

After getting her cocktail, she returned to the table and joined the conversation. She’d intended to sip her drink slowly, but her brief chat with Bones had made her uneasy, so she tossed it back quickly. As the booze rushed through her bloodstream, she crossed the line from tipsy to mildly drunk. But she welcomed the sensation. All her anxiety about the future vanished as the warm, fuzzy feelings took hold of her.

Drew reached over and stroked her cheek. “Want to dance? I’ve been dying to get you on the dance floor.”

She clasped her hand over his, holding it against her cheek, and spoke in a whisper. “And I’ve been dying to get you into bed. Can we go soon?”

“Sure. Just share a few dances with me first. I want to show you off.”

As she got to her feet, she wobbled, unsteady in her pumps, but Drew caught her arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I should have stopped at three drinks, but it’s too late now. I might need to lean on you a little.” She went with him onto the dance floor and waited as the DJ cued up the next song—a romantic tune by Frank Sinatra called “The Way You Look Tonight.”

Drew placed one hand on her lower back and took her hand in the other, then led her around the room, displaying polished moves worthy of Dancing With the Stars .

“Where did you learn to dance like this?” she asked.

“You like it? As part of my physical fitness training, I had to take a few dance classes. It’s a seriously underrated form of exercise.”

“I love it.” The feel of his hand, pressed just at her waistline, filled her with desire. By this point in the evening, she was eager to get him alone. To shed all their formal clothing, piece by piece, and end up tangled in the sheets. But for now, it felt heavenly to be spun around the room by a partner who knew exactly what he was doing.

When the jaunty tune faded out, the DJ followed it with a real love song. As John Legend’s “All of Me” started, Drew pulled Rosie closer, and she leaned against his chest, moving in time with him. She’d heard the song at other weddings, but it had never hit her like this. The tender verses mirrored her exact feelings for him.

She sighed and looked up at Drew. Maybe it was the cocktails, maybe it was the song, but she couldn’t stop the question from tumbling out. “Does it have to end?”

“What do you mean?”

She spoke softly as she swayed against him, the fragrance of his woodsy aftershave flooding her senses. “I mean us. This. Does it have to end in January?”

When he smiled, her heart galloped like a runaway horse. Was it possible he felt the same way she did?

“I was thinking about that, too,” he said. “Should we keep up the pretense until after Valentine’s Day? That way, you’d be safe if your parents want to find you a date for the big day.”

Just as quickly as he’d gotten her hopes up, he’d dashed them to the ground. Because he was still under the impression that all she wanted was a pretend boyfriend to placate her family. She was tempted to go along with him. If they extended things until February fifteenth, that might give him enough time to fall in love with her.

But she couldn’t do it. Not when the words of the song reflected the powerful feelings in her heart. “That’s not what I meant. I want to be with you for real. I…I’m in love with you.”

When his body stiffened, she knew she’d gone too far.

“Rosie.” His voice shook. “I’m sorry, but…”

Rather than stay and hear him out, she pulled away, fighting off a sudden wave of dizziness. It was all too much—the ballroom too crowded, the music too loud, the crush of bodies too overwhelming. She had to escape before she humiliated herself even further.

“I need some air,” she said.

Stumbling, she left him and rushed over to their table. Grabbing her shawl and clutch, she made her way through the ballroom and out into the hall. She kept going until she found an exit leading to the back side of the hotel. There, she spotted an outdoor courtyard illuminated with tiny white lights. To her relief, it was empty. She plopped down on a wooden bench and rubbed her stomach in a vain attempt to stop it from churning.

Shivering, she wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. Tears sprang up in her eyes, and she grabbed a tissue from her clutch and blotted them gently, not wanting to smudge her mascara.

“Rosie?”

At the sound of Drew’s voice, an ache tore at her throat. She wanted him to go away, but he sat beside her on the bench.

“Please come back inside,” he said. “It’s freezing out here.”

“No. I…can’t.” She was shaking so much she could barely get the words out. “I…I just need to be alone for a few minutes. To get my head together.”

He placed his hand on her knee. “I’m sorry, Rosie.”

If she’d had any doubts before, she was sure of it now. He didn’t share her feelings.

“It’s not your fault.” She wanted to sound resilient, but her trembling voice betrayed her, hinting she was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown. Over the last two months, she’d been under so much pressure, but her relationship with Drew had been the one thing giving her solace. Now, she’d ruined it. “You warned me you couldn’t offer anything more.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have slept with you. That was wrong.”

“No, it wasn’t. I’m the one who asked for it. But I should have known better.” She dabbed her eyes again. “I guess I’m not capable of keeping things casual.”

“That’s not a bad thing. I love how you give with your whole heart. Not just to me but to the hotel, the Damsels, and everyone you care about. But…”

But he wasn’t like that. God knows he’d warned her enough.

She braced her hands on the bench, trying to summon up the courage to end things. If she didn’t do it now, she’d only be prolonging her misery. “I…I don’t think I can do this anymore. This pretending. It’s just going to make our breakup in January hurt even worse.”

“Are you sure? What about Christmas Eve? What are you going to tell your family?”

She’d have to tell them it was over, which would be miserable. But playing along for another two weeks would be even harder.

“I’ll figure something out, but I won’t paint you as the bad guy. I can always blame my job.” Mamá would nag her, as would the rest of her family, but she’d take the hit. Better that, than having them think poorly of Drew, who’d been nothing but supportive.

“Do you want me to call us a ride-share? We could talk at your place.”

What was there to talk about? They weren’t on the same page anymore. And if he went home with her, they’d probably end up in bed, which would muddle things even further. “I think I’ll head home on my own. Sorry. I hate leaving you in the lurch.”

“It’s okay.” His voice broke. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I wish I was capable of giving you what you want.”

She looked up at him, surprised by the grief she saw in his eyes. Was it because she was ending things early? Or did he want more but couldn’t take the leap? “Don’t be sorry. I’ve had a great time. I thought November and December were going to be hell, but you made them bearable. Not just bearable but truly enjoyable. I just wanted more.”

“I’ll stay with you until your ride comes. Okay?”

Though she was close to tears again, she held back, not wanting him to feel any guiltier than he already did. Moving slowly so as not to upset her stomach, she walked with him to the front of the hotel and waited in the cold until her ride pulled up. She got inside the car, grateful for the warm air blasting through the vents, and stayed silent during the drive.

Once she was safely back in her apartment, she shed her formal garments and let down her hair. It cascaded around her shoulders in soft ringlets—something she’d done for Drew’s benefit. Tomorrow, she’d brush it out, but she didn’t have the energy to do anything now except change into her pajamas. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she sat on her couch and cried.

She let loose with huge, gulping sobs that racked her entire body. Not just for Drew but for all of it—the demanding hours she’d been working, the fear of losing her job, and the constant strain of trying to meet her boss’s expectations.

But mostly for Drew and what could have been.